Heather's War
by BlackFeathers1
Summary: Set a few months after the events of Book 6, the story begins at the Reservation for the Care and Control of Dragons, Romania. Voldemort has discovered a way to control dragons, and Heather Reed is there the day he casts his shadow over Camp MacFusty. Hea
1. A Not So Bloodless Coup

**Chapter 1 – A Not So Bloodless Coup**

It was late at night and Camp MacFusty was buzzing with low-level activity. MacFusty was an outpost of the Reservation for the Care and Control of Dragons (R.C.C.D) situated in the Unplottable Eastern Carpathians, Romania. There were currently about twenty at the Camp, all at different levels of experience. There would normally be a few more, but some of the Researchers had already returned to Britain to offer their services to the War Effort. The Ministry of Magic had recalled the Resident Auror who had been stationed at Camp MacFusty one month before; he hadn't had much to do anyway, apart from chasing off the odd stray vampire. Other cutbacks imposed by the Ministry had made it rather more difficult for interested witches and wizards to take up long term posts in the care of dragons. Of course, there wasn't so much interest at the moment; people were not too keen on leaving loved-ones behind and many had also signed up to fight the good fight. The Researchers that remained at the Camp stayed for various reasons; some were still debating about whether to go back, a few were in denial about the return of Voldemort. There were as many reasons as there were people, and it was sometimes a topic of discussion amongst the Researchers on the long boring nights at the Camp when the Vodka was flowing.

It was a cool, clear early autumn night. Beautifully crisp, the full moon shone exceptionally large so close to the mountaintops. The night was strangely still and, in spite of being fairly far up into the mountains, there was only a light breeze.

Heather Reed was just checking in on the five Longhorn Hatchlings in the mini-aerie, halfway up a cliff, on a small, insignificant mountain at Camp MacFusty. The mountain overlooked the main part of the Camp, where the staff dormitories and the Hatchery were situated. Heather had been at the R.C.C.D. for some years now; she was petite with long, light brown hair and dark brown eyes. She was fairly pretty, but the constant battering she received from the fresh Romanian mountain winds and the occasional toasting from the dragons meant that her face was permanently flushed.

The Hatchlings had settled for the night an hour before, but Heather found their fiery, musty scent relaxing and sometimes came up to see them before bed. The heady warmth from the braziers was almost as good as a long hot bath. Heather watched the Hatchlings as they snuffled in their sleep, occasionally snorting spumes of smoke from their scaly nostrils. She passed too close to one and tiny burning embers fluttered onto her embroidered Romanian blouse. It had seen better days anyway and she absently patted at the new burn marks with a gauntleted hand.

She was just thinking how peaceful the little dragons looked when they were asleep, when the Intruder Charm sounded across the Camp. It was a low, funereal tolling, specially pitched so as not to disturb the volatile reptiles. Just as well, as the charm installed by Igor Dinescu, the previous Chief of Dragons, did have a tendency to go off if so much as a rabbit wandered in. There was nothing to steal at the compound, dragons generally being more trouble than they were worth. Fifteen seconds later, the alarm was still sounding.

"Bollocks," Heather muttered and strolled out onto the ledge of the aerie. She was confronted by a scene of pandemonium. Thirty feet below, the compound was bathed in green light and people were running and shouting all across the camp. There were bright flashes of spell casting and the dragons were roaring on the other side of the Camp. As she looked down, several strange figures in black robes were swarming between the dormitory huts. She was still watching, dumbfounded, when a couple more figures Apparated and then ran, wands still drawn, to the middle of the compound. Heather also saw Jeremy Cooper, the Chief of Dragons, emerge from one of the huts in his yellow night robes. A figure in black stepped in front of him, raised its wand and Jeremy went down in a flash of dark green light.

"Oh… shit," Heather fumbled with her wand a whipped it up towards the sky, her hand shaking, "Please, please work."

"_Grandalarum!_" Heather cried and bright, enormous yellow letters flared, superimposed across the sky.

**RELEASE THE DRAGONS. WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.**

The tolling alarm changed its note, becoming more urgent.

Heather didn't need the mind of an Auror to realise that MacFusty had been overrun by Death Eaters. Panic stricken, Heather backed up against the cliff. What had happened to Jeremy? And what if someone Apparated onto the ledge? What could these people possibly want? Her knees knocking, Heather tried to get a grip on herself and remember Igor's training. Mesmerised for long seconds, she watched as more of her gang spilled out of the dormitories, wands at the ready. In the near distance, she saw the bright ginger flash of Charlie Weasley's hair as he began to exchange hexes with one of the invaders. On the far side of the Camp, Heather could hear the dragons roaring and bright tongues of flame flickered intermittently. It was the three mature dragons currently held at the Camp due to ailments and injuries. There was another colossal roar and a large cloud of dust as the dragons took off into the air. With a brief skirmish and a grand sweep of their wings, the dragons were off over the mountains.

"Release the dragons, you stupid witch," Heather cursed herself as she tried to dispel the stupor from her limbs. She peeled herself away from the sanctuary of the rock face and crept back to the entrance to the cave where the dragons slept. The hit of their odour finally made her move faster. Heather hissed and clicked her tongue as she moved desperately along the line of dragons.

"Wake up, wake up!" Heather imitated the Queen Dragon's warning call and the Hatchlings responded quickly, unfurling their wings with a snap and mewling coarsely.

"Fly!" Heather yelled and ran to the cave wall, pressing herself against it to keep out of the way. In a flurry of black leather wings, the dragons sped from the cave. Heather stood at the entrance to the cave and watched as the dragons winged their way into the sky. She felt triumphant, but it was short lived.

There was a sucking pop at the far end of the cliff ledge, and a figure in black had Apparated, shortly followed by another.

"We should have secured this aerie sooner," the taller figure snarled menacingly to the other in a cut glass accent. A tremulous voice replied,

"Our intelligence suggested that no-one was usually up here this late at night."

They hadn't spotted her yet as she stood in the dark shadow of the cliff. In a fit of terror, Heather stumbled back into the cave thankful for the soft, sandy floor that muffled her steps. She frantically waved her wand at the torches lining the wall, snuffing them out. She also tried desperately to extinguish the darkly glowing braziers, but they refused to respond to her spells. The wizards stepped into the cave just as Heather concealed herself in a far, darkened corner. It was only a matter of time… there was nowhere for her to hide and she could think of no suitable spells she could perform with confidence. If she tried and failed, she would be discovered instantly.

"_Lumos_," the malevolent voice spoke slowly and deliberately. The other wizard followed suit. Heather's heart sank into the pit of her stomach as the cave was dimly lit by the wand light. The braziers suddenly seemed to pop and crackle more ominously. Heather remained hidden, but she knew it wouldn't last.

"Surely if there was someone here, they would've hit us with a spell by now," the shorter wizard spoke softly, sounding more than a little nervous.

"We shall see. Light those torches," the tall one commanded. The shorter complied swiftly, while the other scanned the interior of the cave as it grew lighter. Heather crouched in the corner, raising her wand in her trembling grasp. She was seconds away from being discovered.

"_Incendio_," the shorter wizard finally lit up the torch directly above Heather, bathing her in its flickering glow. She gasped.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

The red wave of light knocked Heather into the rocky wall and her wand was gone. Terrible at duelling and too petrified to think, Heather had not even begun to incant.

"Well, well, what have we here? Very poor reflexes. Not much of a witch, are we?" the tall one spoke condescendingly.

The owner of the cut glass voice grabbed a handful of Heather's fine hair and dragged her to her feet.

"So, young woman, you thought that you would cower in the dark while your _friends_ fought bravely, yet misguidedly, outside," the stranger's voice sounded almost wistful, but his grasp twisted painfully in her hair.

"I believe… I would be more of a hindrance," Heather had finally found her quavering voice, too late. She looked up into the stranger's face; he was wearing the unmistakable mask of the Death Eaters. Cold, grey eyes glittered out at her, regarding her closely. A fresh wave of panic hit her.

"W…what the fuck do you want?" her voice cracked, pitched too high. The stranger's grip tightened even further. His eyes flashed ever so slightly, unreadable. He was silent for a moment then spoke slowly, cold laughter in his voice,

"Cowardly _and_ crude. What brings a pathetic excuse for a witch like you to the wilds of Romania? To play with the dragons?"

Heather tried to growl, but it somehow came out as a pathetic whimper. The stranger laughed a soft, cold laugh that sounded like glass breaking. His companion snorted.

"It seems that all of the dragons housed in your little encampment are now gone. The Dark Lord will not be pleased. Maybe we can find some other beasts for you to amuse yourself with," his silver eyes glittered enigmatically. With a hiss, the stranger brutally shoved Heather away. Her head rang.

"Bring her," the stranger commanded his companion as he stormed out of the cave onto the cliff ledge. Heather followed, held at wand tip by the now quietly sniggering companion.

Outside, thirty feet below, the camp was now ominously peaceful. The Intruder Charm had finished its clanging, though the sickly green light remained. There was a clearing in the centre of the camp flanked by the male and female dorms. Heather recognised some of her fellows on their knees surrounded by Death Eaters. She looked up at the sky, her heart pounding as the Dark Mark burned against the clouds. Merlin! Was anyone missing? The wizard at her back pushed her roughly as she tried to search the small crowd below.

Heather came to the edge of the cliff and began to descend the rickety rope ladder, definitely only held together by magic. As she looked down, the tall Death Eater had just reached the bottom and was watching her as she climbed, her brown dragon hide boots slipping on the rungs of the ladder as her legs refused to obey. When she reached the camp floor, the Death Eater grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and propelled her towards the gathered captives.

"Come _along_," the Death Eater hissed as Heather briefly hesitated when several of the others turned to face her as she approached. As she got nearer, Heather could see that some of the captives were crying or suffering from hexes. She had just managed to spot Charlie, Aurelia and Constantin among them when she was pitched face first into the dust alongside them.

As she sprawled in the dirt, a pair of shiny black shoes came into her vision and another male Death Eater spoke in a sly voice,

"Are you the one responsible for the release of the young dragons? Speak!" The command caught Heather by surprise. She sat up and replied mechanically,

"Yes. It's standard practice in the event of an unfriendly intrusion."

"Mmm," Heather could hear the smirk in his voice, "It seemed that your Chief of Dragons was unprepared."

Heather looked around frantically for Jeremy Cooper, but he was not with the others. She caught Charlie's eye and he sadly shook his head. Heather's heart lurched horribly as she realised Jeremy was gone. She moved nearer to Nellie Price, an Apprentice at the camp, who was covered in small cuts and crying softly. They clasped hands. The spell was broken by the Death Eater's voice,

"It's time for introductions, don't you think, Lucius?"

"And why not?" the silver eyed one replied. At his word, all of the Death Eaters removed their masks. There was an outburst from Erasmo Early, the Dragon Psychologist.

"They've shown themselves! They're going to kill us all!" he wailed.

Simultaneously, the unmasked Death Eaters raised their wands to Erasmo. Charlie Weasley, who was crouched next to him, launched himself at Erasmo, clamping a calloused hand over the latter's mouth and growling at him to keep quiet.

The grey-eyed Death Eater Heather now recognised as escaped Azkaban prisoner Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, lowering his wand. He spoke lightly,

"Contrary to what this wizard believes, we do not wish to kill any of you." he paused, "Any _more_ of you, anyway. For the moment. However, any further interruptions will be punished rigorously. Please continue, Severus."

All of the captives' heads turned to regard the man wanted for the brutal murder of Albus Dumbledore. He stood poised, as though he expected the sudden attention. There were several sharp intakes of breath. Snape's eyes glittered darkly and he deliberately strode around the small crowd with brisk, fluid steps. His voice was equally liquid,

"We are here at the behest of the Dark Lord, who has decided that it might be beneficial to our cause to harness the power of dragons." He continued swiftly, "He has developed the means to control these creatures to some extent, but also requires the unceasing cooperation of you sorry lot," Snape cast his eyes around the captives, "to ensure that they are all properly maintained. After all, we can't waste the talents of so many valuable witches and wizards," here he indicated the Death Eaters, "on what is essentially a side project. Any form of resistance will be met with the appropriate Unforgivable." At the end of his short speech, Snape approached Malfoy. He briefly waved his wand before he and Malfoy began to converse, their words rendered soundless by the spell. They frequently glanced at the captives, making them even more nervous as it became apparent that they were talking about them. The rest of the Death Eaters, on the other hand, seemed more relaxed now that they weren't running about trying to kill people, but the captives were still too afraid to speak. Heather watched Snape as he spoke with Malfoy. Of course, he had been her Potions teacher at Hogwarts; Potions not being a subject at which she had excelled. She remembered he was not exactly the best teacher in the world either; he liked the sound of his own voice a bit too much and tended to distract his students through constant acerbic criticism. It was still quite a leap from obnoxious teacher to callous murderer.

Finally, the conversation ended and Malfoy addressed those assembled,

"You will now all go to your beds and hope to spend a restful night. Whether you do so or not is entirely down to yourselves. Good night." Malfoy was brisk and business-like as he turned on his heel and strode away from the group and headed towards the male dormitory. At the instruction of Severus Snape, the remaining Death Eaters shepherded Heather and the other Dragon Researchers to the women's dormitory.

Inside the dorm were other members of the camp who had already been captured. They rose quickly as Heather and her companions were unceremoniously ushered inside; Heather was relieved to see the faces of some of those who were previously unaccounted for. The door banged shut after the Death Eaters had left and from inside the dorm the captives could hear muffled spells as the door was sealed with magic. After a pause, everybody started talking at once in muted voices before Charlie Weasley spoke up,

"Did anyone see what happened to Seb and Nicholae?" He already sounded resigned as he dragged a slightly shaking hand through his red hair.

"They're dead," wept Erasmo, "On the edge of the compound… an Unforgivable Curse. They were releasing the dragons." Several of the others moved to comfort Erasmo.

"Bloody hell!" raged Charlie, "Why on earth does You Know Who think dragons are the way to go? Every witch and wizard on the planet knows you can never tame a dragon!"

"They're all mental," declared Meredith Williams, an experienced Dragon Researcher, "I'm not sure I ever want to know the reasoning behind anything they do."

Charlie sighed, "At least we managed to release all of the dragons. You did the Hatchlings, Heather?" she nodded mutely, "It will take ages to round even a few of them up. It looks like that's how long we have to live, unless they change their plans."

The room fell silent and an even deeper sense of gloom descended.

"Charlie," Heather whispered, "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help the rest of you. My wand-work…" she had tears in her eyes.

"It's alright, love," Charlie soothed, "It was important that the dragons were set free."

"And Jeremy is dead. I saw him die. It happened so quickly, I didn't even realise…" Heather broke off, tears falling from her eyes. Several of the others began weeping openly. Jeremy had been Chief at the camp for some time and was well loved by many. He had been a unifying force at the R.C.C.D. and was utterly unfazed by any crisis, big or small.

"I know that we are all feeling the loss of Jeremy deeply at this time," Aurelia Petri, the Dragon Pathologist, said in a husky voice, "But maybe we should start thinking about how to handle the situation we find ourselves in."

"Our _situation_!" Constantin Dragomir, a strapping, dark haired Researcher said angrily, "_That_ is an understatement!"

"We need to be practical, Constantin," Aurelia continued, "Do we go along with what they want or try to resist? I think we should show a united front."

"Resist, of course!" Many of the Researchers plainly agreed with Constantin, nodding their assent.

"What then?" Aurelia replied, coolly, "Do you really want Cosmina resisting?" Aurelia drew Constantin's attention back to his pregnant wife, who he had previously been comforting. He looked conflicted. "They'll only put an Imperius Curse on us…"

"Then we resist some more!" Some of the Researchers appeared to have second thoughts. Even Constantin had run out of steam, somewhat.

"It's not that easy though, is it? The War's only just begun in earnest and we're isolated here. If any of you have experience in resisting the Imperius Curse, they had better make it known now," Aurelia scanned the room, confident in her doubt, "Besides, that would be pointless unless we were all, or at least most of us, able to do it."

"I agree with Aurelia," Erasmo said quietly, "And as Charlie said, it will take quite a while to secure any of the dragons. We'll only capture the weaker ones at first and, even if He Who Must Not Be Named has acquired the power to control them, they won't be of much use to him." Erasmo himself looked doubtful; even a weak dragon would be quite formidable.

"So what do we do now, Charlie?" asked Meredith.

"I dunno," Charlie replied, "Join hands, sit upon the floor and tell sad stories? At least it would be a distraction."

A few other people started to voice their opinions simultaneously, and Charlie patiently sat and half-listened, frequently dragging a calloused hand through his hair. Others in the group wandered around aimlessly or sat on bunks despondent or in tears. One or two started searching for anything of use and a query went up about the possibility of left behind wands. The windows were warded and there was no way out.

Constantin and Aurelia began a heated discussion about whether they should all band together to try to break the wards, "Honestly, Constantin, even if we could, we'd be unarmed and face to face with many dangerous wizards!"

This all went on for some time. Heather, who hated being cooped up at the best of times, had started to pace up and down before the warded door. The heels of her boots struck the floor loudly as she stopped in front of the door.

"I wish we could open this bloody door!" she hissed to nobody in particular. And with that, the door promptly flew open.

There was a brief moment of silence, while everyone gaped.

"Merlin's Shit! How did you do that?" cried Charlie.

"Nobody move," said Erasmo, "It's probably a trap."

----------------


	2. At the Mercy of Malfoy

**Chapter 2 – At the Mercy of Malfoy**

Heather stood frozen in the doorway, fully expecting another alarm to go off. There was nothing. The wind blew gently outside, barely disturbing the dust. Some of the Researchers started towards Heather and the open door. Charlie and Constantin were at her back.

"Let's make a run for it," whispered Constantin.

"Don't be daft, we'll never make it to the broom shed -" Charlie broke off. As they peered across the compound towards the dormitory housing the Death Eaters a sense of impending doom struck them. The other dormitory door had swung open and several Death Eaters, headed up by Severus Snape, came storming across the grounds, wands at the ready. Heather was gripped with panic as Charlie and Constantin hurriedly stood between her and the Death Eaters.

"Let me do the talking," Charlie whispered, as Snape swept up the steps to the door. The rest of the Death Eaters stood a little way back, their wands trained on those visible inside.

"I see we have an escape committee already, or did you just call for room service?" Snape sneered, a little breathless.

"There's obviously something wrong with your lots' warding, Snape," Charlie said calmly, "We're just going to back away…"

"Silence, Weasley!" Snape thundered and pushed past the three at the door, closely followed by several Death Eaters. He strode up to Cosmina, Constantin's pregnant wife, and pointed his wand directly at her face.

"You will all tell me, this instant, who opened the door," his eyes narrowed, "or this one is the first!" Snape spun and faced the room, his wand still trained on the terrified Cosmina.

Heather could see Constantin stiffen out of the corner of her eye. He was about to move.

"It was me," Heather stepped forward, "Alone," her eyes were unable to meet Snape's furious gaze. She lightly touched Constantin's arm; he then turned to face her. She looked up at his anguished face.

"Oh, Heather," he spoke softly. Heather was about to reassure him, when Snape signalled to the Death Eaters. They moved quickly; Heather was dragged to one side while Charlie and Constantin were pushed up against the wall. All three of them were thoroughly searched; some of the Death Eaters stood aside performing various spells of revealment. After a while, one of them spoke,

"They're clean, Severus."

"Let's go." Snape led the way as the two Death Eaters nearest Heather grabbed her by the arms and frogmarched her outside. She just had time to glimpse Charlie's shocked face before the door slammed shut. Heather's heart banged loudly in her ears and she started to tremble. Snape was ignoring her as he faced the door and began to incant. He was brisk and businesslike as he lightly tapped his wand on each side of the doorframe, finishing at the threshold. After that, he went off on a circuit of the building – no doubt checking the window wards. In the time it took, Heather stood with the Death Eaters in silence, a hundred thoughts rushing through her mind about what would happen next. None of them gave her any comfort, but a feeling of resignation washed over her. Finally, Snape returned and came to a stop before Heather with a swish of his robes. Heather, still being restrained by Death Eaters, suddenly became very interested in the scuffed toes of her boots. She had but a moment to consider the bite mark inflicted by Rascal the Ridgeback in his younger years, when long, slender fingers forced her head up. Heather steadfastly avoided Snape's gaze, which was quite difficult as his sallow, gaunt face filled her vision.

"Look at me," said Snape. Heather reluctantly met his eyes; they were utterly black. His voice was soft and dangerous as he continued, "How did you open the door, witch?"

"I-I don't know," Heather stammered, "I was just standing near it wishing it would open." Snape studied Heather's face closely and she could feel herself reddening.

"Take her to Lucius," Snape addressed the Death Eaters, releasing her face viciously.

It seemed a long walk across the dusty compound to the other dorm. Heather was desperately hoping that if the Death Eaters had wanted to kill her they would've done so by now. Maybe they were just curious as to how she'd opened the door. She had to admit she was quite curious about it, too.

Severus Snape approached the dorm, not once looking back until he reached the door. He pulled it open, standing to one side with a slight bow.

"After you," he smirked unpleasantly, looking down his long nose at Heather.

"Why thank you," she replied coolly. What was the worst they could do? _Might as well brazen it out,_ Heather thought to herself, _I don't have anything to lose. Apart from my life._

Heather stumbled her way into the dorm, spoiling the nonchalant effect somewhat. This was the men's dorm, and Heather was led past the bunks where Death Eaters were now relaxing after their evening of mayhem and murder. There were not many here – some seemed to have left the camp after the initial raid was over. They laughed obnoxiously has she walked past.

Heather was brought to the end of the dorm, to what had been Jeremy's private room. Anger carried her over the threshold when a surly Death Eater opened the door, but she had a powerful hit of fear when she saw Lucius Malfoy sitting at Jeremy's bureau. He seemed to be engrossed in some parchment as she went in; he then carefully laid it down upon the desk and slowly turned to regard her. His eyes were cold and appraising as they flickered down her body.

"Thank you, Goyle. That will be all for now," his voice was mechanical, "Well?" Malfoy's eyes were looking past Heather, and she knew that someone remained behind her.

"This is the one who broke the wards on the door. Wandless and unaccompanied, apparently." Heather turned to see Severus Snape looking at her blankly. He stood very straight with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Interesting."

Heather faced Malfoy again, watching him as he sat in Jeremy's old chair. Fine boned and well turned out in exquisitely tailored robes, he would have looked every inch the Pureblood gentleman if it wasn't for the traces of green-grey shadow under his eyes. Eyes that were also frigid and dead; even though he was now looking directly at her, his expression was distant as though he wasn't seeing her. There was something barely human about Malfoy and here he was, leaning back in Jeremy's chair as though he had a perfect right. Then as though a light had been switched on, a vague spark of recognition came back into Malfoy's eyes.

"Heather Reed, is it not?" Heather nodded dumbly, "I'm sure, my dear, that you'll excuse us if we don't take you at your word regarding your sudden liberation," Heather heard a movement behind her, but resisted the urge to turn, "Severus would just like to make sure that we are not missing out on the finer details."

Heather was drawn into the black gaze of Severus Snape as he stood before her, his wand arm out.

"_Legilimens,_" Snape intoned as Heather stared up at him like a rabbit between headlights. She reeled momentarily as images from her past filled up her vision: peaceful days with her mother caring for their menagerie of curious creatures, her brief but disastrous expedition to Mongolia to find the death worm. Snape's eyes peered blackly at her through the visions, but then the wall started to go up. It was her third week as the R.C.C.D. and she had been alone when she found the mortally wounded hatchling and had to put it out of its misery. A cold place.

"She's fighting it," Snape sounded surprised and she stoically began to analyse that particular note in his voice.

"Stop!" Malfoy interrupted. Heather was back in the room. Her knees had started to buckle with the effort of resisting the spell when Malfoy leapt to his feet, his hands reaching out to grab her by the neck. He pushed her backwards, up against the wall; she was on the tips of her toes, choking.

"Listen to me, you stupid witch! We don't have all night. This is not the time to be practicing your feeble Occlumency skills," Malfoy said, his eyes were white hot metal and there were flecks of spit on his pale lips. "You _will_ submit, or you will _die_!"

Heather's lungs burned, starved of air. Suddenly, Malfoy was gone and Heather dropped heavily to the floor on her knees; her vision had darkened and there was a high pitched whine in her ears.

"OK," Heather had barely choked out the word when she felt a firm hand tilting up her face.

"_Legilimens,_" said Snape, sounding rather more determined.

This time Heather let the memories wash over her, feeling increasingly queasy until she felt the bile rising in her throat. The spell then broke and the fug subsided dramatically.

"She doesn't lie," said Snape, flatly.

"Good… good."

Although she couldn't see him from her position on the floor, Heather could tell Malfoy was weighing up his options. Heather also used the brief respite to gather her strength. The room was silent other than the soft riffling of parchment as Malfoy continued to search through Jeremy's papers. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded raw and alien,

"The Intruder Charm that sounded also alerted the other outposts. When nobody contacted them to cancel it, they would have scrambled. There will be hundreds of wizards here shortly…"

Malfoy suddenly laughed with a wild, almost hysterical edge, making Heather jump,

"Silly girl! What makes you think they aren't in the same situation as you?" Heather looked up at Malfoy furiously as he regarded her with a pitying expression.

"This may be what Severus refers to as a 'side project', but this little undertaking has been planned for months. Right now, all of your other outposts are also under our control." Malfoy's laughter grew louder as Heather visibly deflated. She tried to counteract the effect of his words by rising to her feet. She had barely stood when the curse hit her,

"_Crucio!_"

Heather felt her spine contort as the pain lanced her body. Her blood seemed to turn to molten metal as the fiery pain spread from a point somewhere below her ribcage, quickly burning white-hot as it drove upwards into her brain. Her screams echoed throughout the room.

Then as soon as it began, the spell ended. Heather felt a cool hand on her brow and heard dry, coarse sobs. She belatedly realised they were her own and made an effort to suppress them. Her throat was ragged and she raised her head frantically to see Malfoy now standing near the window, his back to her. The cool hand firmly pressed her head back to the floor and she closed her eyes, trying to breathe deeply. Malfoy's voice came from far away,

"I'm sorry that we have found it necessary to inconvenience you," he feigned sincerity, "but we need to ensure that you are wholly receptive to our plans." As he spoke, Heather heard footsteps drawing near and sensed a presence above her. She opened her eyes to see Lucius Malfoy looking down at her. Despite his dispassionate words, his eyes burned with determination… and something else. He gracefully dropped to his knees and traced a long, pale finger down Heather's cheek. She fought to remain calm.

"Ah, she is almost beautiful now don't you think, Severus?" Malfoy's eyes held a strange light.

"If you say so." Snape replied. He sounded utterly bored. Heather felt sleepy, she mused that she missed the touch of the cool hand. Her eyelids drooped and she was only slightly concerned when Malfoy raised his wand slowly and with relish.

"_Imperio._" A light flick of his wand, and Heather felt warmth and comfort seep through her, riding in on the endorphins and chasing away the last spasms of hot pain from the Cruciatus Curse.

"You will be a good girl now." Malfoy's hands were moving on Heather's body, insistent and rough. She felt warm fingers push her blouse up above her breasts, then trailing down her belly to her belt buckle. She sighed softly; what was the point of fighting anymore? Nobody was coming to save them. She choked back a miserable sob.

"There, there," Malfoy consoled, his soft, warm hands lightly brushed stray hairs away from Heather's eyes before moving downwards again. He began to ease down her brown dragon hide trousers.

"Lucius," Snape interrupted the reverie, "are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Of course it is," Malfoy snapped, before considering Snape's words. His hands had stopped moving. "What are you getting at?"

"Well," began Snape, "I'm all for taking advantage of the local hospitality, but it might spur her into reasserting her pathetic defiance. Especially considering the fact that she managed to break the door wards without a wand."

"That was a blip. Look at her," Malfoy casually flicked his fingers in Heather's direction, "she's quite useless now."

"Likely so," Snape said slowly, "but wouldn't it be more beneficial to send her back to the others as she is now? If we go too far, it will only serve to make them more rebellious."

"_OK_, Severus," Malfoy spat, dragging Heather to her feet as he stood suddenly. He then spun her around to face him, still half-supporting her. Her head lolled wildly as she sought his stormy grey eyes. High points of colour slashed his cheekbones and he angrily cast the Imperius Curse again.

"You will do whatever Severus tells you," he growled before pushing her towards Snape. She stumbled and felt hands solidly grip her upper arms.

"Take her away," Malfoy mumbled.

Heather dully wondered why Lucius sounded so angry when she had been trying to be accommodating. Snape then dragged her out of the door, down through the dorm past the leering Death Eaters and out into the cold night air. He didn't stop once as he propelled her past the Researcher's dorm, around the back to the broom shed. Heather was happy to follow, if only her legs would work properly.

Snape flung open the shed door and pulled Heather inside. He let her go and she fell limply to the floor. She watched him with an idiotic look on her face as he frantically searched his robes, pulling out a vial of dark red potion.

"What is that, Professor?" Heather giggled. Her voice sounded strange to her. Snape dropped to his knees, uncorking the bottle with his teeth and pressing the neck to her lips.

"Drink it. Now." Snape was emphatic. Heather felt his hand at the back of her neck unnecessary as she downed the potion in one. It tasted extremely sour and created a feeling of tiny blades sliding down her throat. She tried to spit some of it out and tiny flecks of red marked Snape's pale face. He didn't flinch.

The effect of the potion was swift and bleak despair ambushed Heather. Her heart was pounding frighteningly and she found she wanted to go back to being dopey and comfortable.

"What - ?" Heather's question was cut short as Snape slapped her sharply across the cheek.

"Fight it!" Snape's black eyes glittered with rage. Heather felt anger rise immediately but she merely shook, staring at Snape uncomprehendingly. Snape's hands were brutal on her shoulders and he shook her violently. Through her puzzling anger, a dim spark ignited in Heather's mind.

"Fight it!" Snape himself now sounded desperate. "Oh, what's the use?" He let Heather fall back to the sandy floor before pinning her arms above her head. His body covered hers.

"What do I have to do?" Snape's voice was low and menacing. Heather met his eyes as his hands moved down her body swiftly. With a growl, he was pulling at the waistband of her trousers; breathing harshly in her ear as she felt her hips lifted roughly towards him and she felt his teeth and tongue on her neck

_No!_ she thought suddenly. Instead of voicing her objection, Heather flung her arm at Snape's head, her forearm catching him clumsily yet solidly. He soundly swore and vanished from view as she scrambled to sit up, clutching at her clothing. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him kneeling some distance away. Her neck throbbed were his teeth had grazed her. She was about to speak, when Snape quickly raised a finger to his lips.

"Silence!" he hissed. She was silent, and all that could be heard for a while was their laboured breathing.

As Heather's breathing slowed and her heart rate dropped to a slow gallop, she felt an aching loneliness fill her and her eyes prickled with tears. She sighed and her chin dropped to her chest; tears ran to the tips of her eyelashes before falling softly. It was likely the aftereffect of the Imperius Curse, but the thought didn't console her.

"This isn't the time for feeling sorry for yourself." Severus Snape slowly got to his feet. "They'll be plenty of time for that later when you will be able to indulge to your heart's content."

In spite of her tears, Heather was beginning to feel normal again. Her anger rose quickly.

"How dare you!" she hissed, "_How dare you!_"

Snape was moving quickly across the floor, completely ignoring her outburst. He swept over to the broomsticks lined against the wall and selected a Cleansweep from the rack.

"Stop whining you little ingrate," he muttered as he came towards her, "and keep the bloody noise down." Hands clenched into fists, Heather rose to meet him. Snape had just stopped before her with a swish of his robes when Heather pulled back and punched him with a neat left cross. Snape's head jerked violently and blood sprang to his lip. He smirked and calmly turned back to meet her eyes.

"At last. You seem to be coming around to my plan."

Heather was nonplussed. "You have a plan?"

"Well, I didn't drag you in here just to become better acquainted with your luscious body." Snape's eyes moved over her insolently but his tone was sarcastic. Heather blushed furiously as he continued, "You will get on this broomstick and go where it takes you – No," Heather had started to splutter a protest, "it will take you to a safe house, well, more of a hovel actually. There you will wait." At this, Snape thrust the Cleansweep into Heather's hands. She closed her gaping mouth with a snap before speaking.

"You're letting me go?" she asked, incredulous.

Snape rolled his eyes and addressed her as though he were talking to a particularly dense pupil,

"Yes, I suppose you could put it like that. Take the broomstick outside. Get on it. Bugger off." He flicked his long fingers in the air. Heather hesitated, trying to ignore his patronizing tone and failing.

"But first," Snape spoke suddenly, "you will need to hit me again." Now the evil glint came into Heather's eyes.

"Oh, with the greatest of pleasure."

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End file.
